


Incomparable

by GriegPlants



Category: Jolene (Song) - Dolly Parton
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Insecurity, Misunderstandings, Relationship(s), Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GriegPlants/pseuds/GriegPlants
Summary: It's hard to know what to do when your man starts talking about his beautiful colleague while sleeping.





	Incomparable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amaresu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaresu/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!

For the third time in a week, she lay awake in bed, listening to her boyfriend mumbling into his pillow. Most of what she could make out was gibberish, but occasionally a coherent word or phrase would emerge from the pool of nonsense syllables - ‘have to,’ ‘table,’ ‘feel,’ and… ‘Jolene.’

There it was. He didn’t talk in his sleep every night, and he didn’t mention Jolene every time he did talk, but lately it was happening more often than not, and she didn’t know what to do. She was afraid to confront him about it, because if she forced him to choose between her and Jolene, she wasn’t at all certain he’d stay, and she loved him altogether too much to risk losing him.

She'd met him shortly after moving away from her parents’ place, when he’d just finished his degree and was working long hours at the hospital. At the time, she’d been employed as a barista in a café where many of the hospital's doctors would go to grab a coffee between shifts. He’d been friendly, and they'd chatted on several occasions about being new to the city – they were both from very small towns, though he’d grown up out of state – and one day he’d asked her out.

This had come as quite a surprise. She was unused to being asked out. Her parents had been good people, but strict on the matter of how young women ought to dress and behave, and she’d never been much of a rebel, so she’d had trouble fitting in at school and had not been well-liked. She’d rarely been bullied, precisely, but she hadn’t had many friends and had not gone to prom on account of having no one with whom to go. She knew some people went alone, certainly, but the thought of what people might think had made her far too embarrassed to contemplate doing so.

And he had been such a polite, well-spoken man, and not unattractive either, and even after getting a job and her own place she didn’t see herself as much of a beauty, or possessed of a terribly riveting personality. Oh, she wasn’t entirely without merit, she thought – she had no particular vices, kept her apartment clean, dressed well, had similarly put-together friends, and so on – but she wasn’t a handsome young doctor with an apparently very bright future, either. Even before they began going out, she'd enjoyed his company, and after being together for over two years they'd only grown to like and care for each other more deeply.

Or so she'd thought until this business with Jolene. He’d first mentioned her right after coming home from work one day (by this time, they’d rented a joint apartment, his shifts had gotten a little more reasonable, and she was working at a nice, high-end restaurant), saying one of his fellow doctors – Jolene – had given him some good advice on dealing with cases that went badly. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but the name had come up again, and again, always in a complimentary fashion. After a while he’d begun mentioning Jolene in a more casual context, referencing conversations they might have had over lunch, for example, rather than only work-related situations.

She’d gotten a little nervous then, but consoled herself by picturing Jolene as an elderly mentor sort of figure, an experienced doctor certainly but quite outside her man’s realm of interest in any other sense. Probably Jolene wore her (greying) hair in one of the severe, purely practical styles many of the doctors seemed to favor. She would only ever be dressed in scrubs around her fellow doctors, of course, which didn’t tend to be terribly flattering garments (and doubtless she stooped a little, too, after so many years leaning over patients on surgery tables), and she probably spoke in a dry sort of way with plenty of medical terminology thrown in. A respectable person and an admirable colleague, but not anyone to worry about getting too close to her man.

This reassuring fantasy, however, had spiraled cleanly down the drain when her man had invited her to attend a holiday party with his colleagues at the hospital. Jolene, it turned out, was in fact a gorgeous young woman with eyes like emeralds and thick, shining auburn hair that she apparently preferred to keep wound around her head like a crown – practical _and_ striking. She was also friendly, charismatic, and funny, and while she got along well with everyone at the party it was clear she was especially good friends with just a few. And of course one of those was the man now given to calling her name in his sleep (and in, it was worth noting, fairly heated tones).

So now it had come to this – sleepless nights, worrying over what to say, if anything, both fearing and, in some obsessive, vaguely masochistic way, hoping he’d say Jolene’s name again. At least that way she’d feel vindicated to some extent, and not as though she was being paranoid, no matter how many tears she cried lying there listening in the dark. She had a wonderful, intelligent, handsome, and likable lover, who seemed to feel as warmly towards her as she towards him. She should just leave things as they were, not push her luck, not risk damaging what she had when it was finally something really good…

Except he _hadn’t_ been that warm towards her lately, had he? He’d seemed distracted after work for a few weeks now, only half-listening when she told him about the ridiculous customers with whom she’d had to deal, and looking unhappy when she tried to keep him at their dining table or in their living area longer and talk with him further. He’d still been warm and caring when they were in bed together, but – now that she thought about it, maybe a little _too_ much so. He seemed almost desperate, as though overcompensating for something, or a lack of something.

Maybe she was being paranoid. She wasn’t normally like this, though, was she? Most of the time she was quite happy, not this sort of nervous wreck. When she spent time with her friends, or even at work (and that really ought to have stressed her out if anything should), she had fun, she didn’t dwell on worst-case scenarios about everything. So there was something different about this – she just wished she could be certain.

She finally drifted off to sleep, but her dreams were fitful, full of Jolene’s bright smile. In the morning, she rose well before she or her man had to go off to work and cooked some pancakes. She added blueberries and strawberries, his favourite, and tried not to think about why she was putting in the extra effort. She brewed coffee and set everything on the table.

When he wandered into the room, carrying his socks and shoes, she was sitting there, one leg twitching up and down. She stilled it as he noticed the set table and came over to join her.

‘Wow,’ he said, ‘thanks so much, hun.’ But he didn’t kiss her, as was usually the practice when one of them did something especially nice for the other, and he didn’t really meet her eyes as he smiled. Instead, he stared fixedly at the pancakes, pouring on some maple syrup.

‘You’re welcome,’ she said, and didn’t know how to follow up on that. They finished the meal in silence. He kissed her lightly on the cheek before he left. She felt a little ill on her way to work, the scenery flashing by the windows of the subway distracting her in a way it hadn’t for years now.

Work itself was no better. By the time she reached the apartment, she was absolutely certain she had to do something about the situation. Maybe she could talk to Jolene herself? The green-eyed doctor had acted friendly enough towards her on the occasions they’d met; what, though, could she say? The very fact that Jolene _had_ been so friendly suggested that if any sort of affair was going on, none of the pain and uncertainty it was causing was on Jolene’s part, and attempting to moralise or shame the doctor would likely get nowhere fast.

Perhaps she should just lay it out. Even if Jolene didn’t feel bad about it, maybe she’d at least recognise that it was wrong. It wouldn’t be such a huge hardship, either, surely. Jolene could doubtless have any man she wanted. Giving up just the one shouldn’t be a problem, should it? Should it? Even if that one was considerate, and attractive, and intelligent… and in fact all the things Jolene herself seemed to be.

Oh, was it any use at all? She simply couldn’t compare. It probably _wasn’t_ any use, but she had to try. He was the only one she’d ever felt so deeply for, and she was convinced that she’d never find anyone half as wonderful again. She’d end up old and alone, and people would give her pitying looks as they passed her on the street, and-

She heard the door of the apartment open and quickly wiped her eyes. While dwelling on the Jolene situation, she’d lost track of time _,_ and anyway her man was often a few minutes late coming home these days. Today, however, he was right on time.

‘Hey,’ she said as he entered the living room, shrugging off his coat. She forced a smile. ‘How was work?’

‘Fine, fine,’ he said, but once again he wasn’t looking her way. He came and joined her on the couch, though, and she thought he might turn on the TV, but instead he just sat there, staring at his hands as they rested on his knees. He seemed almost nervous, but -

‘There’s something I want to tell you,’ he said, and her heart almost stopped. ‘Well – more ask you, I guess.’

Afraid of how her voice might sound if she spoke, she just nodded.

‘You probably noticed I’ve been spending more of my free time with some of my friends lately, especially Jolene. Well, it’s because – that’s because -’ he let out a sharp sigh, then laughed under his breath. ‘I’m being ridiculous. Ah, I’ve been hanging out with Jolene a lot because she’s my dungeon master. You, uh, you know what that is, yeah?’

She felt as though she were made of ice. This was worse than she’d even imagined. Of course she’d heard – some things, even if she didn’t – it wasn’t that she judged people, intimacy was a subjective thing and if someone wanted to involve whips and chains and the like that was their business, but – and she thought it had been clear to him that she -

‘Well, the thing is, we’ve been having a lot of fun, but I miss you as well. I told Jolene that, and she said I should ask you to join us. I just wasn’t sure you’d be interested, you know, and I guess I was a little nervous about what you’d think. You’re so – well, you’re sophisticated, and you always seem so put-together, so _adult,_ and even though I know there’s nothing wrong with it, of course, I thought you might think...’

‘ _Join you?’_ Somebody had finally found her voice, but she wasn’t quite sure it was her. ‘Are you joking? You – you seriously think -’ She lost her place for a second, but then plowed on apace. ‘ _No!_ I wouldn't do anything like that with the two of you, and I don’t know why you thought I might!’

‘Whoa, hang on,’ he said, finally looking her in the eye, leaning back and raising both hands defensively. ‘It’s fine if you aren’t into it, or even if you think it’s… You know, kind of silly, but you don’t have to be like that! It’s not like I’ve killed someone or anything, it’s just something some people do for fun!’

‘Some people, not me! And I didn’t think you, either, but certainly not you and Jolene; I mean, i-if you had just asked me about it, maybe… I would’ve understood if you n-needed something different, but that you just _did_ it without even talking to me, you really hurt me, you kn-know?’ She swiped a hand across her face, disappointed in herself for crying. She wasn’t sad, she was angry, which she hadn’t been before; she’d just been anxious and unhappy. And maybe she was sad, actually, behind the anger, but as she looked at her man, confusion joined the pool of emotions. _He_ didn’t look angry, or ashamed, or anything she might have expected given the situation. He looked nonplussed.

‘Wait...’ he said, slowly, ‘what? I’m sorry, I’m not sure what’s going on here.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Why is it so upsetting that I’d ask you-’ he stopped. He looked down, and mouthed a few words, and a look of utter horror spread across his face. ‘ _Shit,_ ’ he said, ‘I’m talking about Dungeons and Dragons. I should have clarified that.’

There was silence for a few moments as both parties contemplated the ambiguity of language.

'So,' she said, slowly, her emotions doing things she didn't quite recognise and wasn't interested in analysing just now, 'when you say her name in your sleep...'

'Oh, God, do I?'

She nodded.

'I've had a few dreams about arguing with her lately. Stuff's been a little tense. She told me that if our relationship, yours and mine, is a good one, I shouldn't be worried that you'll be embarrassed by me having a... kind of a dorky hobby, I guess. I knew she was probably right, but I was still nervous, so I kept promising I'd ask you and then I'd put it off.'

'Oh,' she said. 'Well, I'm - I'm not embarrassed by it.' She _was_ embarrassed, without a doubt, but that had nothing to do with D&D and everything to do with having worried for weeks that her man might be lusting after another woman, only to discover nothing of the sort had been going on. In fact she was so embarrassed that she wished she could never think about the matter again, but that would leave a lot of questions unanswered, so she awkwardly explained, in as few words as possible, her fears over the last few weeks.

'I'm so sorry,' her man said, his own embarrassment replaced by distress. He slid closer to her on the couch and placed an arm on her shoulders. 'I didn't even think about how me vacillating about this would come across to you.'

'Me too,' she said, smiling at him awkwardly and embracing him in turn. 'We both should've trusted each other more than we did, huh?'

'Yeah,' he agreed. 'All things considered, I guess there are worse things to discover than that your partner's more trustworthy than you thought.'

She nodded, still smiling. For some time, they stayed closed together, arms around each other, enjoying the closeness and the lack of tension. They ordered out for dinner so as to stay on the couch a bit longer.

Neither of them had weekends off, but they'd managed to fix their schedules so that Thursday was almost always free. The Thursday following their discussion, they took the subway down to a quiet little shop on a street corner, where they met with Jolene and a few other hospital employees.

'Alright,' the red-haired doctor said, once they'd rolled up their characters. 'We begin aboard a galleon, voyaging across the icy seas of the North. You four are mercenaries, hired by a wealthy duchess to journey to the frozen isles in pursuit of her captured husband. The duke has been stolen away by a sorceress, Isiria the Incomparable...'

And they proceeded to have a much better and less awkward time than might have been imagined a few days previously.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really cool prompt, so thank you for requesting this fandom! The narrator in this song always seemed to me to have pretty low self-esteem, due to both the clear-cut comparisons with Jolene and her desire to stay with a man she thinks would easily go off with somebody else.
> 
> The most natural plot for this fic seemed to be a misunderstanding, but I also wanted to do something a bit unexpected. Issues surrounding culture (or subculture) and class and expectations are interesting and complex, and while this fic is not the latter hopefully it's a least a little of the former.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story, at any rate, and have a very happy Yuletide!


End file.
